


Home Is Where You Are: Sterek Bingo 2017

by fearfrost1211



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Each Chapter is it's own fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kids, M/M, NSFW, Sterek Bingo 2017, briefly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:59:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearfrost1211/pseuds/fearfrost1211
Summary: This is a collection of my contributions to Sterek Bingo 2017. Each chapter will be it's own self-contained story. I will add further warnings/tags as they apply. In the notes at the beginning of each chapter, I will include a short summary and the rating.





	1. Maggie

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Kids theme of Sterek Bingo 2017. It is rated Teen. Un-betaed. All mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy!  
> "It’s only been two days since he brought her home and already he’s forgetting what the house smelled like, sounded like, without her."

It’s only been two days since he brought her home and already he’s forgetting what the house smelled like, sounded like, without her. Derek steps back into the strip of moonlight that’s painting the nursery with a silver glow and looks down to the squirming little bundle in his arms.

She’s so tiny.

When a pregnant omega had shown up half dead on Deaton’s doorstep the vet had done everything he could to save her and the child she was carrying. He’d only been half successful and even then it had been close. The baby was early and if she wasn’t a werewolf cub the chances of her making it would have been lower than Derek likes to contemplate. Still, she pulled through and today she is officially three weeks old and weighs a whole five pounds.

Werewolf or not, Derek is constantly terrified he’ll break her. Honestly, he’s been terrified since Deaton put her in his arms two days ago. Maybe even since he looked down at that sweet little face for the first time and told Deaton not to reach out to any other packs to find a place for her. She was an orphaned cub in his territory and despite his fear something slotted into place in his chest when he’d said, “I’ll take her.”

Of course he has no idea what he’s doing and has spent every available second of the last couple weeks memorizing _how to take care of your baby_ books and getting the nursery in order. The pack has been unbelievably supportive. Isaac and Boyd took care of painting the room and assembling all the furniture while Erica and Lydia gleefully took his credit card to purchase a truly staggering amount of baby clothes and necessities. Scott has been working with his Mom and the Sheriff to get all her paperwork in order. Kira and Allison have happily offered to babysit anytime he needs a break, and all of them have been in and out just to help out ever since he brought her home. 

Then there’s Stiles 

Sitles who sat beside her incubator at the vet clinic for hours every day reading Batman comics or text on ancient runes or the newspaper to her because Deaton said it would help for her to know someone was there. That she wasn’t alone. Stiles who presses his nose into the downy red mop on her head and just breathes her in. Scenting her so she’ll know she belongs. Stiles who tucks her into the crook of his arm and sings to her so softly when he rocks her to sleep. Who is the only person who has coaxed a smile from her. 

Stiles who is currently slouched in the rocking chair in the corner with a tiny stream of drool on his chin. Derek can’t help the tiny snort he lets out and Stiles immediately flails, eyes shooting directly to Maggie’s crib before he spots Derek next to the window.

“Is she ok?” Stiles whispers, wiping his face and stretching as he gets out of the chair and comes towards them. 

Derek glances down at her, his daughter, and his heart threatens to burst. “Yeah,” he answers just as quietly. “She’s been a little fussy, but that’s to be expected.” It’s her first full moon, and while Deaton assures them she won’t actually be able to shift until she’s a bit older or even flash her eyes while she’s still so weak, she can still feel it’s pull. 

Stiles reaches his side and touches his index finger to one of Maggie’s little hands where she’s struggled them loose of her blanket. Instantly, she takes it into her grip and Stiles grins. “She’s getting stronger everyday.” 

Derek smiles and just can’t tear his gaze away from those tiny little fingers wrapped around Stiles’ larger one. “She is. She’ll be ready to spend the full moon out with the rest of us in no time.” 

“Yeah?”

“Well, she’ll mostly stay with you,” Derek flushes, realizing he’s just assuming Stiles would want to stay with her on full moons and quickly stammers out, “...or Allison or Lydia. If one of you is coming out with us that is.” He clears his throat and looks out at the moon. It’s a clear night and he can see almost as well as if it were high noon. He watches the wolves of their pack darting amongst the trees. Probably playing tag while they wait for the moon to reach it’s zenith. 

“You hear that little wolf? You get to hang out with me while your dad goes running with your aunts and uncles. I’ll teach you the proper way to roast marshmallows. None of that lightly toasted nonsense your Aunt Lydia is always going on about.” Stiles glances up and seems startled to find Derek’s eyes on him. Like he’d been so engrossed talking to Maggie that he’d forgotten Derek was there. Dark shadows fan out across his cheeks when he drops his eyes again to Maggie’s face then to the window. “Is it almost time?” 

“Yeah. We should probably head down.” Stiles moves before Derek’s even finished talking to pick up the the littlest pair of coveralls and jacket on the planet. Together they get all of Maggie’s limbs where they’re supposed to go and once she’s all bundled she looks nearly three times her size. 

“Oh wait,” Stiles says before turning to pull something out of the backpack he’d tossed next to the closet when he’d arrived earlier. “I..uh, got her a first full moon gift.” In his hands is an adorable little lavender beanie with a cartoon wolf embroidered on the front. “I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course it’s ok, even though you didn’t have to.” Derek says as he takes the cap from Stiles’s fidgeting hands and slips it on Maggie’s head.

“Well, it’s a big deal isn’t it? Baby’s first full moon? Having a new cub in the pack?” Stiles reaches out and smooths the material over Maggie’s head. “I mean, I know I’m not a wolf or,” his voice cracks, “...you know, her parent, but I still want her to be happy. To know...to know that she’s loved.” 

Derek’s gaze snaps up just in time to see Stiles flush, but the younger man doesn’t drop his eyes. He just stares steadily back at Derek with his hand still softly cupping the top of Maggie’s head. Derek already knows that he, himself, loves Maggie. He thinks he’s loved her from the moment Deaton led him back through the clinic and he’d walked over to her incubator. The weak scent of cub thick in the room as she’d struggled just to survive. He’d reached inside and placed his hand on her round little belly, offering her an alpha’s scent and comfort, and she’d opened her eyes. He’s been a goner ever since. He just didn’t expect anyone else to fall as hard as he had. 

Apparently, he’d been wrong and really he should have realized. Stiles has been ever present and fiercely protective from the second he laid eyes on her. It has become apparent in the years they’ve known each other that while Stiles is cautious to love, once he chooses to love someone there’s no one more loyal. Derek is abruptly, overwhelmingly grateful that Maggie has him in her corner.

He reaches out the arm not cradling Maggie and grips Stiles’s shoulder. “She knows.”

Stiles nods and Derek can see his adam’s apple bob. “We should get out there or we’ll miss it.” Stiles says taking a step back and glancing to the window.

Derek turns to the door, but then stops and looks back to Stiles. “You want to carry her down?” 

The answering smile is blinding as Stiles steps forward and gathers the now sleeping cub from Derek. There’s a moment when Derek’s arm is pressed against Stiles’s chest as they transfer her over and he looks up to find Stiles staring back at him. They both freeze, faces scant inches apart. Derek glances down then back up and says softly. “You know, she’s incredibly lucky to have you.” 

A small, private smile pulls at the corners of Stiles’s mouth. “You’re going to be a great dad, Derek.” HIs gaze is intense where it’s meeting Derek’s and the warmth blossoming over his skin isn’t just from Stiles’s arm pressing into his stomach from under Maggie’s bottom or the heat radiating from the cub herself.

Maggie shifts and grunts and they both jerk their gazes back to her with little huffs of laughter. Derek disentangles his arm leaving their cub resting against Stiles’s chest. He turns and makes it all the way down the staircase when the thought stops him dead in his tracks.

_Their cub_.

He’d just thought of Maggie as if she belonged to both of them. Derek _and_ Stiles. Like they’ll be raising her together. Something molten unfurls in his belly, pulls at his insides and he has to reach out and grasp the bannister to keep from stumbling. He turns to see Stiles still about halfway up the stairs, Maggie clasped securely in his arms. He’s rearranged her so that she’s upright with her head tucked under his chin with one strong forearm snug under her bottom and his other hand pressed against her back. He’s whispering to her about all the things she’ll get to see outside and how her pack can’t wait to scent her and welcome her. How she’ll always be protected and loved because he and her daddy will always love her and would never let anything happen to her.

Stiles stops just a couple steps above him and asks, “You ok, man? You kinda look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“ _Stiles_.” The word comes out raw and so weighted he’s surprised it doesn’t bear him down to the floor.

Somehow, Stiles seems to understand, even though Derek barely does, and takes the last two steps giving Derek that soft little smile again and taking his hand from Maggie’s back to pat Derek’s chest as he walks by.

Once Derek collects himself and reaches the porch, he finds Stiles standing at the bottom of the steps still cradling Maggie with all the pack surrounding them, each taking turns to run their hands against the back of Maggie’s head down to the tiny bit of neck left exposed between her cap and jacket.

After each of them have taken a turn, Stiles lowers his face to the side of her head and presses the lightest of kisses against her cheek whispering, “I love you my little wolf.”

Derek’s heartbeat triples. When Stiles lifts his gaze to Derek, the alpha moves in close and wraps one arm around Stiles’s waist pulling him close and running his other hand over Maggie from the top of her head down to one tiny foot. He looks Stiles in the eye, but he can still see the half shocked, half smug expressions of the pack around them. He tilts his head, resting his forehead against Stiles’s temple, and quietly asks, “You’re sure?”  

Stiles simply turns his head and presses a warm, chaste kiss against Derek’s mouth.

Derek grins into it before he drops his head back and howls. The betas join in before the last echoes fade and then they’re all jumping and whooping with joy.

“Derek!” Stiles says and jabs an excited elbow into his ribs.

Derek looks down to see little golden beta orbs gazing at him. Maggie’s eyes are open wide and she’s making a little grunting “uh-uh” sound and squirming against Stiles’s chest. He lets his eyes bleed alpha red and scoops her up, carefully cradling her head, and presses his face to hers while a pleased rumble boils up out of his chest.  

“This is your pack, Margaret Laura Stilinski-Hale and we’re so happy to have you.” Derek tells her. She coos at him and he presses kisses all over her face before passing her to Scott who is dancing around beside him like he’ll die if he doesn’t get to hold her soon. As soon as she’s in Scott’s arms the others converge on them and Derek takes a step back to where Stiles is wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. 

“Okay?” Derek asks him as he pulls him close and buries his face in the side of Stiles’s throat like he’s ached to do for ages.

A wet laugh bubbles up out of Stiles as he clings to Derek. “Perfect.”


	2. We Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here's my next Sterek bingo fic! It's for the Comfort theme, but it's really hurt/comfort. There is implied bullying/harassment. The rating is Teen.
> 
> "Well, except for Stiles who spent the first half of the meeting not saying a word and the last half cleaning up the kitchen. Despite the clink of glasses, the slosh of water, and the heavy beat of a human heart, the silence is deafening. 
> 
> Unnerving."

The pack meeting is over and everyone drifts here and there around the loft saying their goodbyes and gathering coats. Derek starts pushing furniture back to it’s original position just as the door slides closed behind the last of them. Well, except for Stiles who spent the first half of the meeting not saying a word and the last half cleaning up the kitchen. Despite the clink of glasses, the slosh of water, and the heavy beat of a human heart, the silence is deafening. 

Unnerving. 

Derek frowns. No one had said a word about the black cloud hanging over Stiles’ head or the thick scent of misery that’s been clinging to the back of Derek’s throat since Stiles walked through the door, but a low thrum of anger had clung to each of his betas. Scott had repeatedly shot him significant looks while staying pressed to his best friend’s side before Stiles had huffed and disappeared into the kitchen. So, he’s either completely missing something or something happened at school that the rest of them already know about. Derek feels himself bristle because if it’s the latter, it was bad enough that the pack didn’t even tease Stiles about it. Meaning Erica and Jackson held their tongues instead of taunting Stiles further. Unheard of.  

WIthout a second thought, Derek strides down the hall to the big storage closest he’d converted to an actual functional kitchen when he’d decided to stay here. Just like he suspected, Stiles is standing at the sink with his plaid shirt folded up to his elbows and those forearms he’s finally growing into covered in suds as he washes a plate. The amber eyes Derek likes to pretend he doesn’t try to catch every chance he gets are red rimmed and downcast. That perfect, sarcastic mouth turned down at the corners. Those broad shoulders are curved inward like Stiles is trying to make himself smaller. Like he’s trying to make himself less of a target. 

That thought breaks something loose in Derek’s chest and he’s across the kitchen in a heartbeat. A high whine escapes his throat, as he slips his arms around Stiles’s waist and molds himself against the human’s back; forming a barrier between Stiles and the rest of the world. It’s only after he’s buried his nose in that soft patch of skin behind an ear that he realizes that Stiles has gone completely still. 

It’s not without effort that he pulls his face away from where he’s longed to press it for so long and hooks his chin over Stiles’s shoulder. He’s not good with words. Stiles knows this and usually takes up the slack, but Derek’s going to have to make an effort today.  

“What’s wrong Stiles?”

For one moment, everything is suspended. Stiles is holding himself statue still, despite his racing heart and Derek honestly thinks Stiles will push him away. They’re no strangers to the other’s personal space, that closeness just usually comes during or directly after one supernatural battle or another in the form of carrying, holding up, or tending wounds or on movie nights when they inevitably end up pressed together. Just before Derek thinks he’ll disengage, Stiles goes boneless and sags completely against him. He presses his temple to Derek’s just for a moment then turns and burrows into Derek, head tucked under the wolf’s chin and damp arms bent up and drawn tightly to his chest. Derek adjusts his arms to draw Stiles impossibly closer, ensconcing him completely, and presses his cheek against gelled tufts of chestnut hair.

Then, he waits. Waits while Stiles gets his breathing back under control. Waits while that zealous heart slows back to it’s usual too quick pace. Waits for Stiles to speak. 

He would wait forever.

Stiles sniffs and uses his fist to wipe at his nose before he mumbles into Derek’s chest. “It’s stupid.”

Derek feels his eyebrows pinch. “It’s obviously not. You’re upset Stiles. Really upset. Whatever it is, it’s not stupid.”

“If…if I said that I didn’t want to talk about it, would that be ok?”

Stiles’s voice comes out so small that the growl rumbles out of him before he can stop it. “Did someone hurt you?”

He can feel the heat as it builds in Stiles’s face and body, smell the tears that have formed again in his eyes, feel the tremble in his shoulders.

“Hey, Stiles.” Derek’s hands travel up and down the curves of Stiles’s back, one finally settling against the nape of his neck and holding firm. “I’m sorry. Of course you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Stiles shudders against him, but nods and tucks his face against his closed fists, damp cheek pressed into Derek’s chest. Derek swallows as the scent of misery swells and drips with notes of shame. His own eyes are wet by the time Stiles settles again. 

Afraid of making it worse, he carefully lifts his hands until they cup Stiles’s cheeks and gently coaxes him up to meet Derek’s eyes. He’s tear streaked, a little snotty and still the most beautiful thing Derek has ever seen. The wolf in him, hell the man in him, wants to tear the world apart, rend flesh until recompense has been paid. Someone hurt Stiles and someone needs to pay for that, but he stamps those urges down. Stiles needs him here and now, and like hell if he’s going to screw this up. 

He reaches behind Stiles for the dish towel laying on the counter and gently wipes the human’s cheeks and nose. Stiles is watching him with a carefully guarded expression. When he tosses the towel across the hall towards the closet with the washer and dryer Stiles breaks his silence.

“Why are you doing this?” 

Derek turns back to him keeping his hands loose at his sides, holds his gaze, and says pointedly. “You know why Stiles.”

There’s the slightest quiver in Stiles’s lip. The faintest uptick in his pulse. He swallows and whispers, “Say it...please say it, Derek.”

This is it, Derek knows. The moment they’ve been building towards for the last two years, if not longer. The thing is Derek has said it. Nearly everyday in glances and actions if not in words. He’s been waiting. Waiting for Stiles to be old enough. Waiting for the time to be right. Waiting for the courage to so thoroughly expose himself like he swore he’d never do again, but looking at Stiles now, so earnest and vulnerable, so obviously needing this from him, Derek finds it’s suddenly simple to comply. He may not be able to right all the wrongs made against Stiles or shelter him from all the danger and pain this world might throw at him, but he can offer up this one simple truth. This one wholly honest part of himself. 

“I love you.”

Something like relief flashes across Stiles’s face before the corners of his mouth curve up and he’s pressing his forehead against Derek’s. Tears once again gathering in the corners of his eyes.

That same little whine pinches out of Derek’s throat again. “Stiles...baby, please don’t cry.” Derek’s hands frame the younger man’s face once again, thumbs catching the tears as they fall. 

Stiles huffs a tiny laugh and the sound of it eases the clench of Derek’s heart. “I’m sorry.” He grips Derek’s wrists.”I’m sorry. I had a really bad day. And yes, someone did hurt me...Said some things to me that just dug in for some reason. I don’t know. But I needed that and I needed you.” Stiles winds his arms around Derek and holds on. 

“You’ve got me.” Derek breathes. “I’m pretty sure you’ve  _ always _ had me...and I’m here when you do want to talk about it.” 

“Always?” Stiles smirks.

Derek huffs and pulls him closer, nuzzles against the side of his face. “Always.”

“I love you too, you know.” 

Derek presses his smile against Stiles’s temple, his cheek, then finally his lips. The kiss is open and deep and everything he’s wanted and beyond anything he’s imagined. 

When they break apart, Derek keeps him close, doesn’t think he’ll be capable of ever letting him get too far away again.

“What do you say we break out that ice cream you think you’ve got hidden in the back of the freezer and watch a movie?” Stiles waggles his eyebrows and adds, “Maybe make-out a little?”

Derek’s heart is so full, he can’t even be pissed Stiles found his secret stash. “Sounds perfect.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Not Just A Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve never bottomed.” Derek says.
> 
> Stiles chokes on air, Isaac’s head turns so fast some of the drink he just took dribbles down his chin, and Scott looks like he’s not going to remember any of this tomorrow.
> 
> “I mean, since we’re sharing.” Derek shrugs and takes another drink, pink coloring the tips of his ears.
> 
> “I’m going to need another drink. Anyone else?” Stiles climbs to his feet and heads for the bar, not waiting for anyone’s response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third entry in Sterek Bingo over on Tumblr. It's for the Top/Bottom Theme. There is a brief NSFW scene at the beginning of this chapter and sexual theme throughout. Rating is Mature. As with the others, it's completely un-betaed and I hope you enjoy!

_ “Oh-oh god,” Stiles gasped, clutching Derek’s hand where the wolf had twined their fingers together.  _

_ “Ssshh…I’ve got you.” Derek whispered, lips sliding over Stiles’s sweat slick temple. With slow rolling thrusts, Derek began to pick up speed drawing little mindless whimpers from the human beneath him. _

_ Wildfire was spreading through his veins. Burning. Scorching. Igniting something he hadn’t been ready to acknowledge was there. Still, somehow, Stiles was here. Gasping and panting, legs locked tight around Derek’s waist and Derek was going to enjoy every little second of it until it had to end.  _

_ Because it had to end.   _

_ “D-derek..”  _

_ He closed his eyes and licked his way into that gorgeous mouth determined to commit every sound, and smell, and taste to memory. He needed it to last him. _

*

**5 years later**

Stiles doesn’t know how they ended up talking about this. He barely knows how the four of them ended up here, in this bar, together at all.

“Oh come on, Stiles. It’s been years. We’ve all grown up and since when do you not have something to say about everything?” Isaac says, only slurring a little. 

Who knew they had werewolf friendly bars? 

Across the table, Derek hides a snort behind his beer bottle and Stiles narrows his eyes at him. He’d think the bastard would come to his aid in putting a stop to this line of questioning. “Some of us don’t like to kiss and tell. Despite our proclivity to confer on other various topics.”

Scott doesn’t even try to hide his laugh after slamming back his fourth shot. “Whatever, dude.” He props an elbow on the table and starts ticking off fingers ignoring Stiles’s sputtering. “I can answer this anyway. There was Lydia, obviously, and that guy Wade last semester.” Scott’s glazed over eyes narrow at the remaining fingers on his hand. “Oh! And Malia in high school...and that Amelia chick. And...and…I know I’m forgetting someone.”

Stiles refuses to look at Derek, and prays to whoever will listen that Scott’s memory is as bad as he hopes it is. “Nope, no buddy, I think you have aired all my-”

“You never told me!” Scott screeches suddenly, voice full of outrage. He reaches for Stiles’s arm across the corner of their four top table and gives it a violent shake. “You were supposed to tell me!”

“Scott, now is really not the time-” Stiles tries only to be cut off with another shake that almost upends both their beers.

“That’s what you said last time!! You said,” Scott’s voice goes all high, “Scott, now just isn’t a good time, but I promise that someday I’ll tell you.” Scott holds his arm fast and looks him dead in the eye, voice going back to normal, well normal-slurred. “It’s someday Stiles. Someday has come!”

Stiles’s heart is racing as he dares to glance around the table. Isaac is looking rapt, but confused and Derek...Derek looks curious and maybe a touch confused, but mostly curious and for one wild moment Stiles thinks maybe Derek forgot. He tries to hide the flash of hurt he feels as he brings his gaze back to Scott’s. 

Stiles takes a deep breath and carefully removes Scott’s hand from his arm. “Ok, first, I don’t sound anything like that and second,” He can’t believe this is happening. “There are some things you just don’t share. Even with your best friend!” He tacks on quickly at Scott’s murderous glare. 

“What are you even talking about?” Isaac asks, looking from one to the other. 

Stiles opens his mouth, but Scott beats him to it. “Stiles let some dude punch his v-card back in junior year.” He turns petulant eyes on Stiles. “He wouldn’t tell me at the time, but he  _ promised _ that someday he would.”  

“Interesting.” Isaac is stroking his chin like he’s goddamn Sherlock Holmes. “So, were you slumming it or did he threaten you or-”

“What?!”

“I mean,” Isaac continues, nonplussed. “There’s got to be a reason you don’t want share, it is you after all.” 

“Yes, ha ha, Stiles talks a lot. We get it.” Stiles is starting to sweat. He can feel it gathering at the small of his back, under his arms. At least, when Stiles steals a quick glance at him, Derek looks almost appropriately alarmed now. “And no! A huge vat of no. There was no slumming and no threatening!”  _ At least not over the sex _ , Stiles thinks. 

“So, were you ashamed?” Scott asks, voice considerate and this is bad. This is so very bad. Stiles doesn’t need Scott going all concerned friend over this. 

“No! Of course not!” Stiles pulls at his hair. He can’t look at Derek. He wants to. Wants to see his reaction, but he forcefully trains his eyes on Scott instead, takes a deep breath and braces himself. “Look, sometimes things happen and maybe if...hell, I don’t know, if they’d happened in another life or at a better time…maybe they could have been something more or-or something else.” Stiles shakes his head. He’s going to give himself away. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Derek lean forward. “It’s just that...you hear people talk all the time about how horrible there first time was. Well, mine wasn’t. It was pretty fucking great actually.” He hears Isaac snort, sees Derek fall back in his chair. “And it’s mine. My memory. One of the only good ones to come out of the shit storm that was our high school lives and I guess I’m just not ready to share it yet.”

“It was some really old dude wasn’t it?” Isaac asks, shattering the silence that had fallen around the table. 

Stiles huffs. Scott and Isaac giggle like a couple teenage girls, and Derek ducks his head, smile pulling up the side of his mouth. Stiles wants to taste it, wants to feel it slide against his skin.

Scott settles enough to ask, “What did he think about it, the mystery guy?”

Stiles goes still, picks at the label on his beer. “Couldn’t say. We, uh, never talked about it.”

“Never?” Isaac asks. 

“That’s crazy,” Scott throws in. “Like, not even right after?” 

“Nope, never.” Stiles is sure his cheeks are thirteen different shades of red. “Isn’t it time to humiliate someone else for a while?”

“Just one more,” Isaac says. “Were you top or bottom?”

Stiles thumps his forehead against the table. “How is this my life?” He mutters to the tabletop before lifting his head and fixing Isaac with his most incredulous stare. Isaac just smirks and taps his wrist as if to say  _ I’m waiting _ .

“I answer this and me and my sex life are off limits?” Stiles asks. Isaac opens his mouth so he quickly tacks on, “at least for the rest of the night.”

Isaac purses his lips. “Agreed.”  

Stiles blows out a huge sigh and finally mutters, “Bottom.”

To his surprise, Isaac simply shrugs a shoulder and says, “That’s a good time. Have you ever topped a guy? That Wade, guy, was it?” 

Stiles can’t be sure, but he swears he sees a flash of blue out of his peripheral. Derek’s eyes are their normal stunning hazel when he meets them though. “Nope,” He says popping the P. “Wouldn’t mind it though and that was one more question than we agreed on.” 

Isaac lifts his hands in surrender and takes a swig of his beer. 

“I’ve never bottomed.” Derek says. 

Stiles chokes on air, Isaac’s head turns so fast some of the drink he just took dribbles down his chin, and Scott looks like he’s not going to remember any of this tomorrow. 

“I mean, since we’re sharing.” Derek shrugs and takes another drink, pink coloring the tips of his ears. 

“I’m going to need another drink. Anyone else?” Stiles climbs to his feet and heads for the bar, not waiting for anyone’s response. 

It’s crowded, but not overly so and he finds a little hole to squeeze into and signals the bartender for another round. This night is turning out so not how he expected, but it’s not bad either, he thinks. It’s good to see Derek. Even if he is being forced to dredge up memories that still leave him tingling even after all these years. 

He’s looking down at the bar top in front of him when he feels the line of warmth of another body press against him. The warmth of a werewolf body. His breath stutters when stubble catches in his hair as lips make their way to his ear.

“Cancel the order.” Derek’s breath ghosts over his skin.

Stiles’s eyes snap up to meet Derek’s in the mirror behind the bar. The wolf is staring back at him even as Derek brings his arms up to cage Stiles against the bar. Stiles swallows then catches the bartender's eye to signal them over. Derek is suddenly producing a wad of cash and saying something over his shoulder about settling their tab. Stiles’s heart lurches when Derek laces their fingers together and starts to lead him towards the door. 

“Wait, where are Scott and Isaac?” Stiles asks, craning his neck to look back towards their table. 

“They’re playing pool. Kira is on her way to get them. I told them we were leaving.” Derek says over his shoulder. 

When they reach the door, Derek pushes it open and cool air rushes over them. Stiles thinks it feels like heaven on his overheated skin. The door bangs closed behind them and quiet darkness envelops them. 

Derek slows their pace as they turn for the parking lot and Stiles falls into step beside him. Neither of them move to pull their hands back from where they’re still tangled together. Stiles can feel his heart speeding up with every step they take. When they reach Derek’s car, he leads Stiles to the passenger side, but instead of opening the door he crowds into Stiles’s space until they’re pressed flush together, caging Stiles between the car door and his body. 

Leaning in, Derek brushes his stubbled cheek against Stiles’s and Stiles feels his heart stutter. 

He can feel Derek smile before those lips brush against ear, whispered breath raising goosebumps along his skin. “I think it’s time we switch positions, don’t you?”  

Stiles swallows. “One more romp, huh?”

Derek pulls back, nose dragging along Stiles’s cheek as he goes and Stiles is surprised to see the serious set of his eyebrows, the cautious glint in his eyes. “If you want...but I was hoping we could get breakfast in the morning too? And then maybe a real date?”

“Really?” 

“Stiles...it’s a good memory for me too, you know. And it’s not...it’s not just a memory.” 

Surging forward, Stiles flips them around pressing himself all along Derek’s front, one of his legs sliding between the wolf’s muscular thighs and leaning in to press a gentle kiss on his open mouth. “It’s not just a memory for me either.”  

  
  
  



End file.
